


Moments...

by Wrathofscribbles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Promptis - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: ... from a lifetime together.





	Moments...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MathClassWarfare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/gifts).



> **Big bold reminder that Final Fantasy XV and all of its content is property of Square Enix.** I just like to play in the sandpit they've created for the fans.
> 
> This was a "one sentence per genre" prompt for Promptis and uh. In this we have: one breaking of that rule, _streeeeeeetching_ of that rule, a mature rating for one sentence, and two missing genres because I couldn't think of how to word them for the life of me. I might add onto this in the future! But for now I'll mark it as complete XD

**Angst**

Luna’s dead, another loved one lost, another weight added to the mountain of a country resting on his shoulders and Noctis visibly sags under it, back bowing, head dropping, eyes dimming and it’s no wonder he curls up on the bed as small as he can make his body, smaller and smaller until Prompto thinks he might split apart at the seams with the effort, so many threads ripped from the tapestry of his life in so little time and he can’t do anything to help, not really, except to fit himself around his boyfriend in these moments of vulnerability and hold him close, hold him tight, hold him through the quiet tears and shaking breath and scream without words that he’s here, he’s always here, he’s not going anywhere.

**AU**

“You do know you could snap your fingers three times and ask where your phone is, right? If you’ve left out some milk and homemade cookies like I suggested, your cohabitants will track it down,” honestly, how many times does he have to say this?

“You really underestimate my ability to burn anything _baked_ , Prompto. Besides, if you find my phone... I’ll give you my number.”

_“Eh?!”_

**Crack**

A high-pitched scream within the confines of his own apartment isn’t the kind of wake-up call Noctis anticipated when he asked Prompto to move in with him, yet here he is, bolting awake and falling flat on his face when he gets tangled up in the blankets in his haste to get to the bathroom, and there Prompto is, when he eventually manages to extricate himself from the mess and crawl to his aid, clad in a pair of boxers and mouth a frothy smear of toothpaste open wide on another scream as he flaps around for items to launch at the ghostly form of the Rogue perched atop the shower rail, laughing so hard her form shivers and shakes.

**Future fic**

Sometimes he wonders if he’s done the right thing, made the right choice, if he should have kept the mantle of king around his shoulders and the crown on his head, if he should devote his life to keeping close watch over the country as his father did, and his father, and his before him, but then he watches Prompto tend to the chocobos and croon over their chicks, or hears him humming from another room, or feels his smile when they kiss, and deep in his heart and bones he knows he’s chosen what’s right for _him_ , for them, and if a life of peace and quiet and hard work on the chocobo outpost is the one he’s got left, then it’s the perfect one for him.

**First time**

It’s overwhelming and daunting and so fucking _hot_ to have Noctis under him, sprawled out on the floor with his head thrown back and lips kiss-bitten around panted breaths, restless and squirming and arching his hips for _more, Gods please, Prom, more_ and Prompto moves his hand away, lays his forearm flat by Noct’s head and hovers over him until those lovely blue eyes open again, gone dark and intense and _god_ it’s enough to light a bunch of fireworks in his gut and he asks if they should move this to the bedroom and hands clamp down on his ass in denial, _nails_ digging in and Noctis laughs all low and husky when he yelps.

**Fluff**

Something as stupidly simple as shuffling his way out of a café with his arm hooked through Prompto’s and a pair of earphones connecting his left ear to Prompto’s right shouldn’t make his heart so light and warm and all kinds of sappy, lovey-dovey gooey shit, but here he is, leaning into Prompto as much as Prompto’s leaning into him and he’s floating somewhere on cloud nine and it’s _perfect_ , it’s so peaceful and nice and it’s been a day without chaos or training or near-death experiences... and he actually doesn’t mind the security detail failing to keep a low profile several blocks down the street, for once.

**Humour**

In hindsight he probably should have warned Prompto about the currents in that place Other, unpredictable things ever so happy to send a warp’s trajectory off course, but he supposes it could be worse... getting stuck on a chandelier by the seat of his pants _isn’t all that bad_ for his first time warping, since, y’know, Noctis himself went clean through a window on the eleventh floor and scared the shit out of his Dad. 

**Hurt/Comfort**

Memories of a world gone to hell in a handbasket and nightmares of the endless darkness and a dying partner are things not easily shaken from the vice grip of Prompto’s mind, but Noctis doesn’t mind trying every single time they show show their ugly faces, be it with kisses or cuddles or staying up with too much coffee ‘til dawn’s first blush lightens the sky, he doesn’t mind waiting for Prompto to come back from wherever his restless thoughts wander, rubbing his back or hands or feet or shoulders or running fingers through his hair if Prompto’s lying with his head in his lap, the motion slow and easy and grounding, until Prompto sucks in a particularly long breath and blinks up at him and says hi in a raspy voice


End file.
